seconds
by falling winter roses
Summary: tick, tock, tick, tock, hear the seconds ticking on by / drip, drop, drip, drop, hear the raindrops dripping from high /\ thalia grace and immortality. ONESHOT UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE. /\ drabble/poetry
1. alone

_tick, tock, tick, tock_

 _hear the seconds ticking on by_

 _drip, drop, drip, drop_

 _hear the water dripping from high_

* * *

thalia grace, broken, alone, kneeling in the rain.

thalia grace, not noticing the dryness in her eyes, the cold-not-hot wetness on her cheeks.

thalia grace, not being able to cry anymore, tears dry, eyes dry but hot with emotion.

thalia grace, alone and cold and shivering.

thalia grace, immortal.

immortal but alone, skilled but cold, smiling yet broken.

and she would go on. because immortals did not stop. they kept on ticking. they kept on going.

thalia grace did not want to keep on going.

every memory she had was a drop of rain against her stone heart, dripping away at her until the cold stone that she was made of cracked.

it kept on pattering away, dripping, dropping, dripping, dropping, ignoring how the seconds ticked by.

thalia grace had lost. to the fates, to the gods, to herself. to the memories that could not be erased.

thalia grace had won a war. but lost herself in the process.

thalia grace was still here, breathing, alive, but empty. alone.

alone because she was immortal.

she wanted to join them in the white light of elysium, but she knew that what would make her happy was asphodel. to erase the memories of him, probably in the fields of punishment, he didn't deserve it.

he had been the hero in the end.

thalia grace held herself that cold, rainy night, because no one was left to hold her.

the seconds had ticked by too fast to count. the rain had been too strong for her to stop.

* * *

 **a/n: this popped into my head rather randomly while writing part two of my child of night book one (hint: go read part one. even though it's rather boring at first, give it a follow, because you can skip part one and read part two when i upload it. part one is mainly character development, and it's sad because it only has 32 views...). anyway, give me a review or something. tell me if i should make it longer. add more parts and stuff. it would work either way but yeah.**

 **~syl**


	2. luke (keep going)

demigods die young. heroes die young.

something they all knew by now.

but luke had been strong. he was so strong.

he is strong, thalia thought to herself. somewhere down below he is brave.

he has gone to elysium. he sacrificed himself.

thalia knows that despite this she will never see him again.

the fact was that grief could be terrible for them, but one day they would all see each other in Elysium again. they rested assured of that fact.

thalia would never see them again. she would most likely live on for centuries on her own, perhaps even millenia. she would keep going because she was a huntress, she was thalia grace, a daughter of zeus, a hunter of artemis.

and that was what she did.

that was what she had to do.

she wants to die, she wants asphodel, she wants to erase her memories of it all.

but she can't.

she'll keep going.

 _i'll keep going._

even as her eyes became darker and darker with every passing day.

/

 **a/n: i know, i know. late update. sorry i couldn't get this done sooner, i've been away from my laptop for three days because what we thought was a one night trip turned out to be three nights, so i hadn't brought my laptop. (rip boredom)**

 **anyway, are any of you doing camp nanowrimo? it starts in two days, i'm so excited.**


	3. grover (lifelines)

he was the one that thalia thought would be there.

satyrs are reincarnated as flowers, and grover was no different.

blue forget-me-nots, something thalia would cry and laugh over till the day she died.

blue like his eyes.

forget me not, they seemed to say. _don't forget me. don't forget him. don't forget what he did._

 _don't forget that you still love him._

what if she wanted to forget? what if she wanted to erase that hue of blue from her memory forever?

what if she wanted to forget that any of them were ever even there?

grover.

satyrs are like hunters, immortal unless killed.

grover died fighting a hellhound.

he turned into the flower that sits in a flowerpot on the sill of the sole window of cabin three to this day.

blue, shockingly bright against the dim, sea-green stone that surrounds it.

blue. like his eyes.

thalia shuts her eyes.

she shuts them tight.

but all she can see is that one color, swirling like mist inside and outside and everywhere in between, and she cannot escape it.

she cannot escape it.

she needs to escape it.

grover was her lifeline, the one memory that would still live on while everyone else faded into the grey of the underworld she would never see.

he was the smile that would still be alive, immortal, just like her.

but he was gone. and he would never be the satyr that thalia remembered ever again.

he had been killed in seconds.

seconds that couldn't tick back.

and now, he was only that tiny drop of bright color, a vicious yet beautiful memory, that thalia will never, ever be able to escape.

* * *

 **A/N: wow, i really am on a roll with this one XD**

 **so on my main project, Child of Night, Part Two is a page away from finishing but Camp NaNoWriMo and NaNoWriMo Young Writers are both coming up in July. So I thought, what better way to motivate myself to finish this thing than have this to get me writing? I already have a poetry book idea ready for the Camp but for Young Writers this is perfect.**

 **I've been debating. There's two ways I can do this, I can either finish the Whispers while taking down what is already on here and when I'm done, I post chapters weekly until the whole thing is posted. Or, I could keep writing, and when new parts are done, I post them.**

 **I'm leaning towards option one. This thing starts in LESS THAN A DAY.**

 **So... help me decide?**


	4. annabeth (sisters)

too.

many.

seconds.

thalia held herself, she pressed her hands to her ears so roughly that it seemed that her head would burst.

but she couldn't shut out the ticking.

the seconds were going by, the clock was ticking, the world was spinning...

demigods were dying...

and she could do nothing to stop it. to stop any of it.

sleep evaded her, that sweet nothingness that numbed her feeling and turned her consciousness to mush. the darkness that snuffed out the ticking, blurred the blood dripping...

dripping...

dripping...

thalia shut her eyes, she squeezed them tight, she clenched her fists so tightly that crescent marks were left in her hands, dripping dots of blood.

she couldn't shut it out.

the dripping had echoed, in that large cavern where her body was left, her little sister in all but blood.

gone.

the smile on her seven-year-old face, the echoes of her laughter... the memories of them.

she was worthless, she couldn't even save her...

she hadn't saved her...

she'd been too late...

 _drip._

 _drip._

 _drip._

she closed her eyes to her body, she closed her eyes to the nightmares that she _couldn't escape..._

she needed to escape.

she couldn't escape.

the monsters wouldn't let her escape.

she would keep going, that dripping ticking screaming sound haunting her for all that she would ever remember, all that she would ever see.

and all she would ever be able to see for long after that was her.

/

but thalia grace kept going. the nightmares came every night, the monstrous bodies of the dead haunting her in her sleep. but in the day she put on the facade. she hunted, she practiced, and she fought with an anger and passion that no one had ever seen from her before.

and she kept going.

because that was what a hunter had to do.

* * *

 **a/n: omg i didn't think i would get this many reviews you guys make me so happy**


	5. percy (together)

less than a year later, a certain son of poseidon did not hold on any longer. he let go, and thalia blames herself.

she could've saved annabeth, and then percy would've been saved too.

she knows this. she will never stop blaming herself.

the tears never fall.

how ironic that the son of poseidon does not receive any tears.

only the hot dryness of her eyes follows the son of poseidon's death, and she will go to sleep every night feeling so, so empty.

it is her fault, she thinks. her fault that three wonderful children will grow up without their parents, without true parents, just like thalia did.

 _how ironic is that,_ the monsters sneered. the voices of the dead haunted her.

always.

with every second that passed, the ticking of the clock grew louder in her mind. the faces of the dead rose up in a swirling cacophony of sound that she wanted to shut out.

she couldn't shut it out.

 _WHY ARE YOU HAUNTING ME,_

she screams, but no one hears her, no one ever hears her.

no one will hear her. for she is screaming at herself, screaming in her own mind, screaming so that only the ghosts of the dead can hear the echoing of her tortured voice.

she wants to let go. but she can't.

her hands are glued to the rope. she cannot let go.

and she will keep going.

because that is what she has to do.

* * *

 **a/n: *awkward laugh* i totally haven't updated this in a few days... heh.**


	6. thalia (numb)

grief is a strange thing, thalia grace discovers over the years. throughout all the deaths one thing stayed the same. she kept going, no matter what happened.

it was her motto.

 _hold on, just a little longer._

and she kept holding on. she kept going. year after year after year of death and war and fighting. and she was still that age of not-quite-sixteen, she was still in limbo. year after year of hunting and shooting and honing her skills, and she didn't think she would ever die like this, she didn't think she would ever fall.

and she didn't want to be in limbo anymore.

she is separated from everyone she loves by a hundred miles of earth and stone and pain. and most of all, death. that is something she cannot break the barrier of. she can hurt and kill and maim but there is one thing she can never seem to do.

she can never die.

she never tries to fight anymore, her arms too weak to hold up the bow. she is a faltering lieutenant, broken beyond belief, full of pain and cold.

she is numb.

the voices tell her to do it, that once she is dead she will go where she belongs. she will find her punishment.

but her hope is pushing back, she wants to see her friends and family, she wants to _feel_ again.

but both options led to death, and that was how thalia grace learned that slitting your wrists, finally dry-eyed after a hundred years of pain, didn't count as a form of combat.

and so she kept going.

because that was what a hunter had to do.

.

 _the tears in my eyes are finally dry_

 _can i rise?_

 _a hunter in the underworld_

 _will i make it into the sun?_

 _._

 **a/n: wow, crap ending much, sy?**

 **heh.**

 **anyway. i'm done! haven't updated this in a really, really long time, but i'm DONE!**

 **anyway. i'm working on a saga called the whispers. i, uh, reposted it... so yeah! it's awesome, i think, so go read it! i also have a bunch more stuffs probably like this so go read them all :)**

 **thank you all for all your awesome support, you make me smile.**


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